February 23, 2004
my act of contrition
I have an appointment with a divorce lawyer at 11:30 today. I fucked up to get myself in the position I'm in, and I'm going to admit it and take the consequences. I can't leave the country and forget about Quinton.
I'll probably lose my hat, shirt and ass and maybe even end up with a day or two in jail if I don't watch my smart mouth, but that's the way I'm going. I cannot put a price on my son's head. He means too much to me.
If the bloodless cunt gets all my money, then so be it. Nobody ever told me that life was fair. If the bitch wants the cash that badly, she can have it. I couldn't look at my face in the mirror if I did what she's doing, but I'm not her. She has no problem with her actions at all, because she is a bloodless cunt. Sometimes I think it must be nice to be born without a conscience.
But I cannot run away and abandon my son, my friends and my family. Money just isn't that important to me. Fuck the bucks. I want to see my boy and my mama. I'll do whatever the law requires to maintain that privilege.
It's my goddam fault anyway. I gave the BC all the ammunition she needed to get this ball rolling. I'm going to stand up and take whatever happens in court like a man. I got myself into this shit, so it's up to me to get myself out. It ain't gonna be fun, I'm going to get royally fucked and a lot of people are going to make a lot of money off of me. But I'm going to do it anyway.
It's my goddam job.
All content © Rob Smith